The Name of the Wind

“Blacken me if I know,” she muttered, then called down the bar. “Rudd, how far to Trebon by road?”

“Three or four days,” said a weathered man without looking up from his mug.

“I asked how far,” she snapped at him. “Is it longer than the riverway?”

“Damn sight longer. About twenty-five leagues by road. A hard road too, uphill.”

God’s body, who measured things in leagues these days? Depending on where that fellow grew up, a league could be anywhere between two to three and a half miles. My father always claimed that a league wasn’t really a unit of measurement at all, just a way for farmers to attach numbers to their rough guesses.

Still, it let me know Trebon was somewhere between fifty and eighty miles to the north. It was probably best to assume the worst, at least seventy miles.

The woman behind the bar turned back to me. “There you have it. Now can I get you something?”

“I need a waterskin, if you have one, or a bottle of water if you don’t. And some food that will keep on the road. Hard sausage, cheese, flatbread....”

“Apples?” she asked. “Got some lovely Red Jennies this morning. Good for the road.”

I nodded. “And whatever else you have that’s cheap and will travel.”

“A drab doesn’t go far ...” she said with a glance down at the bar. I shook out my purse and was surprised to see four drabs and a copper ha’penny I hadn’t accounted for. I was practically rich.

She gathered up my money and headed back to the kitchen. I fought off the momentary pang at being utterly destitute again and ran a quick mental inventory of what I had in my travelsack.

She came back with two loaves of flatbread, a thick, hard sausage that smelled of garlic, a small cheese sealed in wax, a bottle of water, half a dozen gorgeous bright red apples, and a small sack of carrots and potatoes. I thanked her kindly and stuffed the lot into my sack.

Seventy miles. I could make it today if I had a good horse. But good horses cost money....

I breathed in the smell of rancid fat as I knocked on Devi’s door. I stood there for a minute, fighting the urge to fidget impatiently. I had no idea if Devi would be awake at such an early hour, but it was a risk I had to take.

Devi opened the door and smiled when she saw me. “Well here’s a pleasant surprise.” She opened the door wider. “Come in. Sit down.”

I gave her my best smile. “Devi, I just—”

She frowned. “Come in,” she said more firmly. “I don’t discuss business on the landing.”

I came in and she closed the door behind me. “Take a seat. Unless you’d rather have a bit of a lie down.” She nodded playfully toward the huge curtained bed in the corner of the room. “You won’t believe the story I heard this morning,” she said, laughter hiding in her voice.

Despite the urgency I felt, I forced myself to relax. Devi was not one to be rushed, if I tried, it would only irritate her. “What did you hear?”

She sat on her side of the desk and folded her hands. “Apparently last night a pair of ruffians tried to lift a purse off a young student. Much to their dismay, it turns out he’s the next Taborlin in training. He called down fire and lightning. Blinded one and gave the other such a mighty blow to the head that he still hasn’t woken up.”

I sat quietly for a moment as I absorbed the information. An hour ago this would have been the best news I could have heard. Now it was hardly more than a distraction. Still, despite the urgency of my other errand, I couldn’t ignore the chance to gather some information about the crisis closer to home. “They weren’t just trying to rob me,” I said.

Devi laughed. “I knew it was you! They didn’t know anything about him except for that he had red hair. But that was enough for me.”

“Did I really blind the one?” I asked. “And the other still unconscious?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Devi admitted. “News travels quickly among us unsavory types, but it’s mostly gossip.”

My mind was spinning quickly along a new plan now. “Would you care to spread a little gossip of your own?” I asked.

“That depends,” she gave a wicked smile. “Is it terribly exciting?”

“Drop my name,” I said. “Let them know exactly who it was. Let them know I’m mad as hell, and I’ll kill the next ones that come after me. I’ll kill them and whoever hired them, the middlemen, their families, their dogs, the whole lot.”

Devi’s delighted expression faded to something closer to distaste. “That’s a little grim, don’t you think? I appreciate that you’re attached to your purse,” she gave me a playful look, “and I have a vested interest there myself. But there’s no—”

“They weren’t thieves,” I said. “They were hired to kill me.” Devi gave me a skeptical look. I tugged up the corner of my shirt to show my bandage. “I’m serious. I can show you where one of them cut me before I got away.”

Frowning, she stood up and came around to the other side of the desk. “Alright, show me.”

I hesitated, then decided that I was better off humoring her, as I still had favors to ask. I took off my shirt and lay it on the desk.

“That bandage is filthy,” she said, as if it was a personal offense. “Get rid of it.” She walked to a cabinet at the back of the room and came back with a black physicker’s kit and a washbasin. She washed her hands, then looked at my side. “You haven’t even had it stitched?” She said incredulously.

“I’ve been rather busy,” I said. “With the running like hell and hiding all night.”

She ignored me and set about cleaning my side with a cool efficiency that let me know she’d studied in the Medica. “It’s messy, but not deep,” she said. “It’s not even all the way through the skin in some places.” She stood up and pulled a few things out of her bag. “You’ll still need stitches.”

“I would have done it myself,” I said. “But ...”

“... but you’re an idiot who didn’t even make sure this was cleaned properly,” she finished. “If this gets infected, it would serve you right.”

She finished cleaning my side and rinsed her hands in the bowl. “I want you to know I’m doing this because I have a soft spot for pretty boys, the mentally infirm, and people who owe me money. I consider this protecting my investment.”

“Yes ma’am.” I sucked in air when she applied the antiseptic.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to bleed,” she said matter-of-factly “There’s another legend proven false.”

“Speaking of.” Moving as little as possible, I reached out and pulled a book out of my travelsack, then laid it on her desk. “I brought back your copy of Mating Habits of the Common Draccus. You were right, the engravings added a lot to it.”

“I knew you’d like it.” There was a moment of silence as she began stitching me back together. When she spoke again, most of the playfulness was gone from her voice. “Were these fellows really hired to kill you, Kvothe?”

I nodded. “They had a dowsing compass and some of my hair. That’s how they knew I was a redhead.”

“Lord and lady, wouldn’t that just send Kilvin into a froth?” She shook her head. “Are you sure they weren’t just hired to scare you? Rough you up a little to teach you to mind your betters?” She paused in her stitching and looked up at me. “You weren’t stupid enough to borrow money of Heffron and his boys, were you?”

I shook my head. “You’re the only hawk for me, Devi.” I smiled. “In fact that’s why I stopped by today —”

“And here I thought you merely enjoyed my company,” she said, turning back to her needlework. I thought I detected a tinge of irritation in her voice. “Let me finish this first.”

I thought about what she’d said for a long moment. The tall man had said, “let’s do him” but that could mean any number of things. “It’s possible they weren’t trying to kill me,” I admitted slowly. “He had a knife though. You don’t need a knife to give someone a beating.”

Devi snorted. “And I don’t need blood to get people to settle their debts. But it certainly helps.”

I thought about it as she tied off the final stitch and began to wrap me in a fresh bandage. Maybe it was meant to be a simple beating. An anonymous message from Ambrose telling me to mind my betters. Maybe it was